


Five Times Tony Stark Missed What's Wrong With Peter

by TrashFan



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Implied Sexual Content, Irondad, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Sexual Abuse, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-12-30 13:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashFan/pseuds/TrashFan
Summary: ...and the one time he found out.As the spiderling falls deeper and deeper into a weird, teen angst hole, Tony struggles to keep up with what's on the kid's mind. His one saving grace is that he has an official intern closer to Peter's age that can relate to him better, right?





	1. Spidey Senses

Tony hadn’t planned to have a makeshift party of the biggest innovators in commercial nanotechnology, he really didn’t. It just so happened that he didn’t particularly feel like being alone all Saturday while Pepper was out of town. She’d told him to relax, not plan anything, and just hang around -- so he hadn’t made any  _ firm _ plans. Yeah, he’d casually mentioned to a few acquaintances and friends that they could drop by and tinker if they felt up to it, but that didn’t count. So when twenty six engineers and scientists showed up throughout the day, the man realized that he needed to start writing down when he invited people over. 

In the middle of trying to find more refreshments for the slew of people chatting and networking in his living room, Tony heard yet another knock at the door. Jesus, this was getting out of hand. He might have to call Happy in for reinforcement if the impromptu gathering got any bigger. He told FRIDAY to let the guest in, explain what had happened, and tell them to make themselves at home. Not two minutes passed before FRIDAY spoke to him again.

“Peter Parker would like me to ask if he should leave.”

Tony swore. He totally forgot he’d told the kid to come over to get a few things fixed in his suit. How had Peter even gotten up here without Happy chauffeuring him? The billionaire was hit with a wave of guilt as he imagined the teenager standing on the crowded subway or swinging his way miles and miles to the tower. Tony instructed his AI to have Peter wait for him as he made his way over. Fuck, this was the biggest slip he’d made since taking the suit away. When he caught sight of a clearly uncomfortable Peter, he flashed a sheepish smirk.

“Hey kid, how’s it going?”

“Hi Mr. Stark. Did I get the wrong day or time? Because I can go back home if I misunderstood. I’m sorry if I crashed your party, I really didn’t--”

“No, I’m sure you got it right,” Tony interrupted. “I’m the one who got things confused. If you wanna go I’ll have someone drive you back, but you’re welcome to stay.”

Peter shifted his weight. “Who are these people?”

He chuckled. “About 80% of my contacts from the mainstream market. Stark brand phones, tablets, watches, the whole nine yards. Do you wanna rub elbows with the men who’ll work for you one day?”

The teen’s eyebrows lifted noticeably and his mouth dropped a little before his gaze went to the floor. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t even know how to say hi, I’m just a kid and everyone’s busy…”

“Nonsense! Just being in the tower at your age will impress them, and they aren’t so great anyway. I’ve seen most of these people puke on themselves.” When Peter still looked at him with guarded eyes, Tony racked his brain for how to make this work. He wanted the kid to have fun and he felt like shit for multi-booking on him. He had almost given up on making the evening bearable for his intern when the answer came to him out of the corner of his eyes.

“Skippy! Come on over here!” Tony motioned the aggressively blonde man over to where he was standing in the entryway. “Pete, meet Skippy, he’s the kid of one of my friends. He just moved back to the city for grad school.”

The new addition to the conversation grinned and rolled his eyes. “It’s not  _ Skippy _ anymore, it’s Steve. And nice to meet you.” He reached out a hand and shook Peter’s.

“Oh no, we already have too many  _ Steve _ s in our lives. You’ll by Skippy for life.”

“If you call me Skippy I will only refer to you as Anthony from now on.”

Tony let out a bark of a laugh. “Can we compromise to Skip?”

“Deal,” the man said.

Peter coughed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. uh, … Skip?”

Tony made a show of wincing. “Nope, you can’t call Little Skippy  _ Mr.  _ anything, it makes me feel ancient. You and him are the only ones here young enough to not have back problems. In fact, if he wouldn’t mind, he could talk to you a bit about what college is like in the 21st century,” he quirked his eyebrows as a question.

Skip grinned and slung an arm around the kid's shoulders. “Of course I don’t mind. C’mon Peter, there’s a whole table of popcorn over there I haven’t gotten to ransack yet. Do you know where you wanna go or what you wanna study?”

Tony smiled to himself as the two headed towards the snacks together. Before he could enjoy the moment too much he was pulled away by an old friend, and that conversation flowed into another which flowed into more chaos until an hour and a half had passed without Tony really noticing. He eventually broke away from the crowd to sneak into the kitchen. He got himself water, leaned against the counter, and took a second to breathe. He closed his eyes and wondered to himself how long this gathering was going to last and if he’d be able to get everything cleaned up by the time Pepper got back.

When his eyes opened again, Tony nearly jumped. Standing three feet in front of him was the spiderling, wringing his hands together and jiggling his leg.

“Think you could give a guy some warning?”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” Peter said towards the floor. The boy’s cheeks were flushed and he had a noticeable sheen of sweat along his hairline.

“What’s up? You look like crap.”

He darted a look towards Tony. “It’s probably nothing, I think I’m just being paranoid.”

Tony had to control the look on his face. “Okay, you got my attention. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t figure out what it is, but my spider-sense,” the man snorted at the term (as he did every time it came up), but Peter kept going, “keeps bugging me. Something’s wrong.”

“FRI, do an additional security scan of the property.” 

After just a few moments the AI responded. “The assessment didn’t show any threats, boss.”

Tony lifted an eyebrow. “Are your senses still bothering you?”

“Less than they were fifteen minutes ago I guess, but yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Something’s off.”

Tony thought for a moment before smiling. “Oh kid, I think you’re just nervous about being at a party.”

Peter took a breath and nodded. “Maybe? I guess that makes sense, I told you I was probably just being dumb. But Mr. Stark, I really think something’s not right.”

“That’s social anxiety for you,” the man waved a hand in dismissal. “But better safe than sorry, I’m glad you told me. Now go back out there, have some fun, eat some food. Try to calm down, everything’s fine.”

The teen looked like he was going to say something else, but after a second he nodded and shuffled off. Tony relaxed back into the kitchen counter. This definitely wasn’t how he’d intended to spend the day, but he wasn’t hating it. He just hoped Peter didn’t feel too pawned off. But the kid was social and could talk an ear off like no one else, he’d be fine.

Tony spent the rest of the party floating around from visitor to visitor, not absorbing too much of any one person. Pepper had always been the host; her people skills and organization blew his out of the water. Being sociable wasn’t exactly his forte, but he was trying hard to change that. Tony was doing his best to notice if food and drinks were always available, to make sure everyone had someone to interact with, to say goodbye to the people heading out. As he did his visual sweeps of rooms throughout the night, he noticed Peter talking in that wide-eyed, wildly gesticulating way of his and Skip nodding along to whatever was happening. Tony smiled -- at least he’d done one thing right tonight.


	2. Acting Weird

_ ask Peter if hes ok? He’s been acting weird all week _

 

Tony had memorized the eleven word text an hour ago when he’d received it, but that didn’t stop him from clicking one more time on his message history with May Parker when FRIDAY informed him that Happy and the kid were five minutes away from the tower. He’d wanted to ask her what exactly she meant by “weird” and how not-okay Peter might be, but he erased his reply every time he started typing it. He’d find out soon enough, and the fact May was going to him at all meant that she must not know what was going on either. 

Despite his attempts to reassure himself, the billionaire had spent the last fifty-six minutes going over his previous month of interactions with Peter under a microscope, searching for anything that might be off. There’d been that moment  of social anxiety at the party a few weeks ago, but that was nothing. Last Wednesday the kid had mentioned he might be coming down with a cold for the first time since the bite, which Tony had been dubious of until Peter had gone into an aggressive coughing fit when he found out Skip was a doing an SI internship to fulfill a grad school requirement (but maybe that was what was deserved for getting an easily worked up teen excited while under the weather). Tony had assumed the coughing was what made Peter uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of that day, but with the context of May’s text maybe it was some adolescent angst thing. 

The man sighed as he heard the elevator whirr. He slid his phone in his pocket, wiped his hands off on his jeans, and pushed himself to standing. When he heard the ding of the doors sliding open he plastered on a smile.

“Hey kiddo!” he chirped

“Hi Mr. Stark.”

And there he was, looking … completely normal. There were no bags under his eyes, no frazzled hair, no puffy red eyes. Tony almost let himself be relieved before a voice in the back of his head reminded him of how many times he’d looked fine while functioning as well as a dying moth. If he squinted he thought he could see Peter’s leg jiggling, but it was such a small movement it was probably a trick of the light.

“You ready to get to work?”

“Yeah, what are we doing today?”

Tony smirked. “Now don’t be mad at me, but I sent Skippy on errands so we can go over the prototype for your new armor.”

Peter’s eyes went wide before he beamed, making his mentor chuckle. Leave it to the spiderling to only see the positive in not getting to hang out with his buddy. Tony had been trying to give Pete as much time as he could to work with his new friend during their weekly lab sessions, which if May was onto something he might need more than ever. But it could be inconvenient at times. Tony had explained to the kid that even though Skip was as good as family, the fewer people knew about secret identities the better. Peter’s intelligence and enthusiasm made the “just an intern” lie an easy one to pull off, but not being able to talk entirely freely in the lab was frustrating. 

As the two made their way to the lab and started pulling out the different suit parts and blueprints, Tony took a shot at small talk.

“How’s school going?”

“Good! My Spanish teacher is going on and on about Cervantes and it’s the most boring thing I’ve ever experienced, but Mr. Harrington has been talking about letting a few people do a special engineering research lab with him next semester and I’m so hyped. He’s thinking that we could like, hm. How do I explain this, it’s like…”

As Peter went off babbling about potential projects, the inventor smiled through his confusion at the situation. He hadn’t realized it until now, but this was the first time in a little while that he’d seen the kid set off on his usual rambling. His face was animated, his hands were gesticulating wildly, and he seemed genuinely enthusiastic about what he was saying. What was May seeing? But in Tony’s experience she was a smart woman not prone to making things up, so he wasn’t going to dismiss her suspicions too easily. He let Peter wear himself down on the topic of engineering research and got the two of them set up with recalibrating the nanotech in the spidersuit’s elbows before trying again.

He cleared his throat. “So life has been treating you, Pete?”

“Good, good,” the teen muttered as he readjusted his rolled-up sleeves.

‘Adolescence has been good to you?”

“Yup.”

Tony bit his lip and went back to tinkering for a handful of minutes before speaking.

“How’re things at home? How’s May doing?”

The spiderling scrunched his forehead and looked up at his mentor. “Good, good. Why’re you being weird?”

Tony scoffed. “What are you talking about, I’m just checking in with my assistant.”

“Yeah, like a million times. Is something wrong?”

“No. Is something wrong with  _ you  _ kiddo? You can always tell me.”

Peter smiled. “I’m literally fine. Are you trying to get at something Mr. Stark? Because this is big strange for you.”

This is what he got for trying to be casual even though subtlety was never his strong suit. “May wants me to figure out why you’ve been acting off around her.”

In another situation, the immediate change in presentation would have been comical. Peter’s jaw tightened and a guarded affect fell over his eyes. Tony could feel forced neutrality radiating off of the kid.

“What does she mean by ‘off’?”

“She didn’t say,” Tony replied.

“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” he huffed.

Tony was taken aback, but decided to roll with it. He offered a small smile that he hoped would help soften the boy again. “You’re an even worse liar than I am, and that’s not an easy feat.”

“I’m not lying.”

The man held his palms up by his shoulders in a show of non-agression. “Okay, okay. Do you know why would your aunt would be worried about you?”

Peter unfroze to look down at the workbench and set his tools down. “I dunno, because she’s May? Sometimes she feels bad when she picks up extra shifts, she feels guilty leaving me alone so much.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Okay, okay, that makes sense. Just put an old man’s mind at ease -- can you promise me nothing’s wrong?”

Peter opened his mouth before hesitating, and that was all the confirmation Tony needed.

“Okay, wow, she’s right then. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. Not really, I promise.”

The older man leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Underoos, look at me. Talk.”

The teen continued to stare downwards for a moment before finally making eye contact. “Nothing’s going on. Not  _ really _ , I swear.”

“But…” Tony prompted.

“But like. How do you know when something is wrong? Cause like, car crashes are obvious, you know? Something is clearly bad. But what if things just feel, like, weird?”

This was the babbling Parker everyone knew and loved. “What do you mean by weird?”

“I dunno, it’s hard to figure out. Like, nothing has actually happened. I think. I guess I don’t really know what counts as bad, but I don’t think anything that’s ‘not okay’ has gone down yet. But I don’t, it’s like, it feels off. It feels like everything was slid seven inches to the left of where it usually is. It’s just thrown everything off.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair. Why were teenagers so difficult to understand? “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about here. Is this more of your insect instinct thing?”

“It’s spidey-senses.”

“Same thing.”

“Spiders are arachnids, not insects.”

“You’re deflecting.”

Peter flashed a brief smile. “I learned from the best.”

“Ouch, burn,” Tony smirked back. “But seriously, I’m trying to keep up here. Can you explain it more?”

“I don’t think it’s my senses, it’s more a gut feeling.”

“About what? What’s going on that you’re feeling so weird about?”

The teen shifted his weight on his work stool. It seemed like he might be working up to say something, but in the end he just shrugged.

Tony wanted to pick the kid up and shake him until the answers fell out. “C’mon Pete. Out with it, you can talk to me. I can’t promise I’ll say the right things, but I swear I’ll hear you out and try my best.”

And for a split second, it looked as if Peter might be considering giving him an actual answer. He was biting his lip and taking a breath in when -- 

“Hey Tony, the lady at the desk says you never authorized me to be a Stark Industries bank account something something, so you have to sign this thing before I can get everything done,” the door to the lab clanked as it swung against the wall, and Tony swore. He wrenched a drawer open, swept in all the Spiderman plans and pieces of tech, and closed it as casually as he could before Skip got too far across the room.

“Really? I could’ve sworn I had, that’s my bad.” Tony reached out and took the stack of forms from Skip to flip through them and  _ sign - initial -sign  _ everywhere.

“You didn’t tell me you were working with the whiz kid today,” the blonde man commented.

“Yeah, we tinker most Wednesdays. Gotta keep him occupied,” Tony muttered.

Skip chuckled and ruffled Peter’s hair. “That’s right, can’t waste the talent of an Einstein like this. Speaking of which Pete, can you go over the plans for FRIDAY’s new interface with me again? Not all of us can be super geniuses.”

“Oh, y-yeah! Sure. So it’s like this, it’s…”

Tony chuckled to himself as his interns went back and forth working out the logistics. He finished signing the papers in less than a minute, but he continued to play around with the forms. He wanted to give the boys more time to talk; Peter needed male role models in his life to show him that he can be a productive person without risking his life as a superhero. He let the two go on for a while, and before he knew it FRI was telling him that it was time for Peter to be taken home. Keeping track of time was another think Tony needed to work on.

It wasn’t until he was lying in bed that night that he realized he’d never finished the “how’re you doing” conversation with the kid. Shit. He’d make himself a reminder to do it next week. He also had several meetings he needed to reschedule, acquaintances he needed to send wedding presents, and a suit he needed tailored. What would the logistics of getting Pepper her own assistant be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments on the first part! Your thoughts and feelings really help motivate me to write and in some cases they even influence the trajectory of the story, so drop a comment if you got the time


	3. The Lab Incident

In the weeks following the almost-conversation about things feeling inherently off, Tony began to worry more and more that May was onto something. The next lab day Peter had said everything was fine, but then in the session after that things had seemed much more intense. Maybe it was because Tony was just now looking for it, but the kid seemed skittish and quiet. The circles under the his eyes were beginning to develop into full-on bags and Tony didn’t like it at all. The inventor had tried to pull Peter aside a few times to ask if things were okay, but he always cited an increased homework load and then ran off before Tony could ask any follow-ups. Brainstorming with Pepper on how to get the boy to open up to him, she’d suggested another one-on-one tinkering day -- maybe Pete was trying to play things cool in front of his new, older friend. 

So that’s where Tony Stark found himself one chilly Thursday afternoon; just him and Underoos in the lab, playing around with the nanobot spread in the newest incarnation of the spidersuit. He’d decided not to try to get too deep too early on. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to slap on a happy facade and back himself into an “everything’s fine!” corner of lies. That being said, the spiderling hadn’t said much in the past hour or so and Tony was about to go crazy wondering what was going on in the teen’s head.

“So how does it feel?”

Peter shrugged.

“Ah yes, a shrug. Incredibly helpful and specific.”

The boy’s mouth curled up into what could almost be called a smile. “It feels like a prototype.”

Tony snorted. “Okay, what does that mean?”

“The bots should be done adjusting by now, shouldn’t they?” he stepped off the small platform in the center of the room and took a step towards the work benches. “I can still feel them moving and settling. It feels like bugs are crawling on me.”

The older man pursed his lips. “You do realize you based your entire superhero persona off of a bug, right?” he muttered as he squinted at the admittedly unusual way the suit was conforming to Peter’s body.

“For the last time, spiders aren’t bugs, they’re arachnids. Some people care about the  accuracies of their names, Mr.  _ iron-is-close-enough-to-gold-alloy _ .”

Tony couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. This was the closest the kid had been to normal in more than a month. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. “Yeah yeah smart ass, spin around.”

Peter started shuffling in a slow circle, moving his hands above and below his head, bending his knees up, and just generally stretching back and forth. “I can definitely tell that we made the right call recalibrating the elbows, but I think we overdid it on the new bots’ sensitivity. They shift every time I breathe.”

The billionaire squinted at a patch of red fabric in front of him. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” he mumbled. Right above the small of Peter’s back there was what appeared to be a mound of several nanobots all clumped around each other. Tony reached out to flatten them out with the pads of his first two fingers, but before he got a chance to register anything, a million things happened in a fraction of a second.

A loud gasp echoed through the room as Peter whipped around. If Tony’s hand had been left where it was it would’ve been hovering around the kid’s navel, but instead Peter grabbed his mentor’s arm and wrenched it hard, flipping an unsuspecting Tony up and onto the ground flat on his back. Before he had any time to react, there was a series of four quick  _ hsss _ ’s, and the man was bound to the floor by webbing around each wrist and ankle.

Peter was standing above him, his arm still raised in front of him with the web shooter out. The kid’s chest was rising and falling rapidly and his eyes were blown wide and unblinking. For a beat neither one said anything; they just paused there in mutual disbelief. Tony was first to unfreeze.

“Sorry about that kiddo, I shouldn’t’ve come up behind you like that. That’s on me.”

Peter’s eyes darted around the room rapidly, looking at the tables and walls, then to his mentor, then to himself, and back again. His breathing was only getting faster.

“Hey there, it’s me,” Tony softened his voice. “Not a street thug, not the Vulture or the Tinkerer or anyone else. Mr. Stark.”

The kid stopped looking around and focused on the man on the floor.

“There we go. You’re not in danger. Everything is okay, you’re okay.” Tony tried to think of a way to drive home his point. “You’re not fighting anyone. Nothing bad is happening. You just flipped me on the floor because I decided to be an Einstein and sneak up on a superhero.”

And just when it looked like things were beginning to calm down, Peter’s eyes somehow got even wider. He darted off and Tony struggled to lift his head to see where the teen went. When he heard a grunt of exertion and a metallic click, he swore. Pete was trying to leave the lab. Which would have worked two months ago, but ever since the incident with Skip walking in with Spiderman prints everywhere, Tony had started locking the lab every time they worked on secret identity tech.

From what Tony could see from his limited vantage point, Peter had backed up ten feet from the door and then  _ slam _ , threw himself into it full force. The man swore. “Dum-E, get the web solvent and unstick me,” he said quietly before raising his voice. “Pete, it’s okay. Everything is okay. Once we get you out of that suit, I’ll unlock the door and you’ll be free to go. I just need you to calm down, okay? I need -- ”

“ _ No _ ,” came a gutteral rip that sounded more hulk than spiderling. “I’m not-”  _ slam  _ “you can’t-”  _ slam  _ “I need to--”  _ slam _

It wasn’t until Dum-E had sprayed his right wrist and his arm yanked free that Tony realized he’d been thrashing on the ground this entire time. It took another two repetitions of the teen throwing his body into the steel plate for Tony to be completely mobile again. He sprinted across the room and over to the door, being careful not to get too close.

“Kid, everything is okay. I need you to come back here. You’re going to hurt yourself, you need to stop,” he begged. As Peter huffed and drew himself back to make another dent in the metal, Tony made a judgement call.

When the raging intern was as far away from the door as his repetitive crashing took him, Tony darted forward and flattened himself over the impact area. For a split second as Peter came charging at him Tony was sure he’d made a miscalculation, but suddenly the boy stopped in his tracks.

Peter was panting, his body quivering so violently it was a wonder he was still standing. His hair and eyes were wild and his face was broken out into a cold sweat.

After several beats of silence, Tony spoke barely above a whisper. “Peter Benjamin Parker, you are here in the lab, just you and Mr. Stark. You're not in danger, and everything is okay. No one is going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you. Can you take a deep breath? Here, I need you to breathe with me.”

The older man started in on exaggerated deep breathing, and on his third inhale the kid joined in. Tony wasn't sure how long they stood there together like that, but eventually the fogginess in Peter's expression seemed to lift. He looked around the lab.

“Oh my god Mr. Stark, I'm so sorry. Oh god, I didn't meant to...I'm so sorry,” he croaked.

“Don't worry about it, it's all good. You look a little unsteady there, how about we get you a seat? Relax a little, how does that sound?”

The boy nodded slowly and sank down onto the floor right where he was standing. It wasn't quite what Tony had meant, but it worked. He took two small steps forward and sat down as well, crossing his legs in front of him.

“See? Isn't that better?”

Peter nodded. “I'm so sorry.”

The man gave a soft smile, “Stop apologizing. It's okay, I promise.”

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

Tony decidedly ignored the bruises he could already feel forming on his wrist and ribs. “Stark men are made of iron, remember? You're gonna have to try harder than that to dent me.”

Peter placed the bottom of his feet on the floor, pulled his knees close to his chest, and rested his elbows on them. “I didn't mean to do that, I wish you didn't have to see that.”

The older man nodded slowly. “I understand what it's like to have a switch flipped. We've all seen shit Pete, we all have our demons. You’ve had more than your fair share for a 15 year old. Doesn't matter how long ago it was, sometimes it feels like yesterday.”

“Y-yeah,” Peter looked down. 

Tony thought for a second before he decided to continue. “Has this happened before?”

Peter nodded.

“How many times?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, a couple, maybe a half dozen.”

“When was the first time?” the man asked.

Peter bit his lip. “Two, three weeks ago?”

Tony could feel his eyebrows shoot up and worked to neutralize his face. “Woah, so this is a recent development.”

“Yeah.”

The billionaire wanted to press, he wanted to find out everything that was going on inside the child's head. But he knew from personal experience that sometimes saying it out loud was just too hard. “Do you know why it's getting worse?”

Peter pulled his knees in closer to his body. “Nothing. It's nothing. I dunno. Stress? School has b-been a lot lately and I just… I dunno,” he started twitching again.

Tony cursed himself silently; he'd pushed too hard. “Hey kiddo, that's okay. We don't always know why things flare up when they do. Believe me I know.”

The twitching slowed to a stop. “Yeah.”

Tony might be the one with personal experience, but Pepper was still the one that was better at this. Or Rhodey. Or Sam. Or hell, even Banner. Tony reminded himself that they weren't here and he needed to try his best for his intern. “Can you tell me what triggered you? I wanna make sure this doesn't happen again.”

To the man's surprise, Peter looked up and made eye contact. “You can't touch me like that. It makes me -- you just can't. And don't call me Einstein, okay?”

Tony seemed to remember that that comment hadn't been in reference to the kid, but this wasn’t the time to point that out. “Fair.”

“And you can't lock me in here. I need to be able to get out. Always.”

“Sounds reasonable. Is the door being locked bothering you right now?”

Peter winced. “Please don't remind me of it.”

“If you want I can get it unlocked for you. You just have to change back into your streets first.”

Peter nodded and rubbed at his temples. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks Mr. Stark.”

“No problem, Underoos.”

Tony pushed himself to standing and offered a hand, but Peter got up on his own. Once the kid had collected his tee shirt and jeans from where they lay crumpled on the floor and closed himself in the bathroom, Tony inhaled deeply. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not to Peter. The spiderling was supposed to take after him in scientific ingenuity and nothing else, but here they were. The immediate repercussions of what had happened were easy to fix -- Tony could get the door repaired and program FRIDAY to let Peter unlock the lab from the inside. But the wider implications? How far reaching did this go, and why was he just now beginning to see it?

After the teen was deposited safely in a car and on his way to Queens with Happy, Tony began to make a plan. He would talk to all the major players in Peter’s life: May, Ned, MJ, Skip, whatever that decathlon teacher’s name was. They had to be noticing something as well, right? Was the outburst in the lab an example of the worst case scenario, or was it just the tip of the iceberg? The first step in any project was figuring out what you were dealing with. Tony was a mechanic -- if he could fix the kid’s suit, he could fix what’s inside it as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... what did you guys think? I hate hurting my Baby Boys but I love whump, so here we are.


	4. Data Points

Tony had made a point as of late to keep Peter around after lab sessions, general meetings, intern hang outs, and anything else that brought him to the compound. The man had been increasingly distracted dealing with an incredibly sharp group of prank hackers that had taken to messing around with FRIDAY, and he felt bad for disappearing to meet with Happy about it in the middle of their Wednesday tinkering. He wanted the kid to know he had lots of people in his support system, and Tony figured having him stay extra would help with that. Besides, he needed the team to see Peter more often -- Tony wanted to get as many perspectives as possible on the teen’s new behaviors. If the spiderling wouldn’t tell him what was going on he was going to figure it out himself, and he needed more sources of observation.

As the billionaire sat down at the table for the first group dinner including Pete since he gathered initial thoughts from the people who saw the kid the most, he went through his mental list of data points and their potential hypotheses and interpretations.

 

_ Data point 1 -- friends _

 

The exact same text had been sent at the exact same time to Peter’s two closest friends. The message wasn’t prying so much that Pete would be offended if he knew about it, but Tony still asked the kids not to share it with him. He was just trying to check in on his intern and see if his peers had noticed anything off. Two minutes after the message was sent out, Tony received his first response from the number he’d entered as Ned’s.

 

_ Hi Mr. Stark!!! Its so cool to be talking to you sir, peter always says how cool you are. But yea I agree with you hes been weird lately. He doesnt eat a lot at lunch and he seems really tired but he said he was doing extra patrols adn seeing u more often so idk. Hes been bummed out or stressed about things b4 but its never been like this. Idk its weird. But yea its so cool having your number sir!!! Im sorry about hacking the suit last year, thats my bad. _

 

Despite the serious subject matter, Tony had to fight not to roll his eyes. And he’d thought Peter’s texting was bad. MJ didn’t respond until three and a half hours later, and when she did her reply wasn’t exactly reassuring.

 

_ Hey Tony. He’s been acting all angsty at school too and I can’t get him to tell me what’s going on. He always looks like someone just kicked his puppy and he never picks up his phone. Sometimes when it starts buzzing he shuts it off, so I guess he’s isolating himself or something. It hasn’t been this bad since Ben died. I tried giving him space and then I tried riding his ass about it and then I tried being all sweet and open and shit but he still hasn’t told me anything. He doesn’t talk at lunch anymore. I’m worried. _

 

The billionaire didn’t like either of the replies he got from Peter’s friends, but MJ’s especially bothered him. He’d never met the girl, but he’d heard plenty of stories about her and from the sound of it she wasn’t one to express concern about others, so it must be bad. 

These text messages were what was running through Tony’s head as he watched Peter settle onto a stool between Skip and Natasha and pick at his food. Like his friends had said, he wasn’t eating or talking all that much, but he was a little bit. That was almost enough to be a comfort. As the teen shifted to grab some potatoes, the light hit him so that the bags under his eyes almost glowed with intensity. Tony’s mind couldn’t help but jump to what his second report had told him (or, as the teacher had thought at the time, told Aunt May).

 

_ Data point 2 -- Mr. Harrington _

  
  


_ Ms. Parker, _

 

_ While I’ve been dismayed to see Peter deteriorating, it’s heartening to see that he has a guardian who cares for him. In truth I’ve been considering reaching out to you myself. Your nephew has been increasingly distracted and lethargic in my class, and he has several missing assignments. What concerns me the most, however, is his general demeanor. On several occasions I’ve noticed him flinch when I pass by, and last Wednesday he began shaking when we were studying some of the great contributors to scientific theory. I’ve also noticed him dozing off during class time and jumping out of his sleep. I’m concerned about his general wellbeing and personal life, and I hope his situation improves. I know Peter is a good kid, so I’ve tried to be lenient. He has enough extra credit accumulated from the beginning of the semester that I’m not concerned about his grade. If there are any special circumstances I should be aware of, please don’t hesitate to let me know. _

 

_ Mr. Harrington _

  
  
  
  


As Tony looked now at the wrinkles around Peter’s eyes and the heaviness in his lids, the man couldn’t help but revisit what Mr. Harrington wrote about falling asleep in class. Why wasn’t Pete getting enough rest? Tony had checked in with Karen and the kid hadn’t gone patrolling in weeks, so that wasn’t what was keeping him up. The teen was currently slumped over his plate, his elbow on the table and his cheek resting on his hand. As the people around him chatted, he smiled and exhaled through his nose at the right times, but his eyes didn’t move -- they stayed staring blankly into space. Part of Tony wanted to shake him back into the moment while part of him wanted to scoop Peter up and tuck him into the nearest bed. There was no reason a sixteen year old should be under the amount of stress that Peter so clearly was.

As Thor shimmied between Peter’s chair and the wall in order to get to his seat, the teen visibly tensed up, making himself small and ducking his head down. Tony’s mind was instantly brought back to the hushed kitchen conversation he’d had a week ago after dropping the kid off at home.

 

_ Data point 3 -- May Parker _

 

“You  _ impersonated me  _ to one of his teachers?”

Tony held his hands up. “I did, but in my defense I was planning on showing it to you from the beginning.”

“So why didn’t you just ask me to send it?”

“Well, uh, in all honesty that option did not occur to me at the time.”

May huffed and moved her hands from their position on her hips to crossed in front of her. “Pull this again and I bite your head off, Stark.”

“While that is completely fair, it’s not technically an answer to my question.”

She sighed and looked over her shoulder towards her nephew’s room. “Yeah, I do agree. He’s been acting weird.”

“What does weird mean?” Tony asked.

“I’m sure you’ve seen it. He doesn’t, like, talk anymore. I just thought he was mad at me for being gone all the time, but I guess not. He used to never shut up, and now I can’t get more than three words out of him.”

“Do you think it’s girl trouble or some bs high school angst?” Tony asked, almost hopefully.

May bit her lip. “I wish. I saw that last year with Liz, and that was different. I think he’s even lost weight, he seems so much smaller. And he won’t…” she trailed off.

“Won’t what?”

She looked away, jaw hard. “He won’t let me touch him anymore. Hugs or ruffling his hair or even pats on the back. Pete outright asked me to stop doing it. I thought it was just him growing up, maybe it isn’t ‘cool’ to be babied by your aunt or something. But maybe it’s part of-- well, whatever this is.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Maybe, it very well could be. Do you think there’s anything we can do to help him?”

May opened her mouth to speak, but her response never came out because Peter had chosen that moment to wander out of his room to grab a snack. The furrow in his brow showed he was already confused as to why his mentor was still there, and Tony couldn’t think of a passable excuse to stay any longer, so he left.

  
  
  


The more data he gathered, the less Tony liked the list of possible explanations. There were a dozen things coming to mind from the one psychology class he had taken in college, and none of them were good. Depression. Anxiety. Eating disorder. Sleep disorder. Mood disturbance. PTSD. They weren’t fun options to choose between, and Tony wasn’t sure which one he was most afraid of. God forbid it be several things. Pepper kept telling him to stop obsessing and getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it. He was the one enabling the kid to continue spidermanning at the level he was, so if that was somehow the cause of all this, that was on Tony. He didn’t know if he could handle another thing being his fault.

As dinner was finishing up, the inventor was mulling over what May had said about Peter avoiding touch. There had been countless flinches and startles, but the kid hadn’t asked Tony not to touch him. Was that just an Aunt May thing, or did he want everyone’s hands off him? Peter needed sight narrowing goggles in his spidersuit, and the two had talked about how his heightened senses made all physical stimulus more intense. Tony felt his heart lift. Could the no-touching just be a sensory overload thing? God, he  _ needed  _ this to just be a sensory overload thing.

Right on cue to answer his question, Skip reached out to squeeze Peter’s shoulder from his spot sitting to the right of the boy. To Tony’s surprise, the teen didn’t recoil or jump like he’d been doing lately -- he didn’t move at all. It was a relief to see that there was someone in his life that hadn’t been shut out. It was a moment before Tony realized Peter’s mouth had actually started moving. Tony shook his head and forced his attention to the current conversation.

“I dunno, it’s whatever…”

“Oh don’t be modest! It’s great! You should be proud of your achievements,” Skip laughed.

“It’s really nothing,” Peter mumbled.

“How many people got the special research position with that teacher?”

“Two.”

Skip grinned. “And how many applied?”

“I don’t know, thirty-one I think?”

Tony caught the kid’s downcast eyes for a minute and beamed. “And you go to the best STEM school in the city! How is that ‘nothing’?” the billionaire chuckled.

Peter shrugged. “I got lucky I guess. Besides, Mr. Harrington likes me from decathlon, it doesn’t count.”

“It is impressive Peter, don’t sell yourself short,” Bruce added from across the table.

“Einstein probably has one of the highest IQs in here, and in this room that’s saying something,” Skip said.

And with that, the conversation diverged into stories of the various intelligence tests people had taken and who was or was not a member of MENSA and if the test was rigged against people who think in Russian. Tony let himself get involved in the banter, but he kept on eye on Peter. The boy was sitting back in his chair, his muscles no longer tight. It seemed like he was relieved that the conversation had shifted away from him, which was unusual for Peter. He used to love being the center of attention. But then again, what used to be weird for the kid had become commonplace, so Tony shouldn’t have been surprised. 

When dinner was over and it was time to drive Pete back to Queens, there were several willing volunteers, but Tony waved Steve and Skip off. He wanted some time to talk one-on-one again, now that Tony was sure he wasn’t just making up the change in behavior in light of the incident in the lab.

He made it eight minutes into the drive before he couldn’t keep it casual anymore.

“How’re you doing?”

“Good Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled, his head turned towards the window.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Tony took a breath. “Buddy, I’m not so sure about that. People are starting to worry about you.”

“I told you, May just feels guilty, that’s it.”

“It’s more than just me and May.”

Peter’s body stiffened. “The team is trained to feel out danger everywhere, they’re being oversensitive.”

“They aren’t who I’m talking about either. Your friends and teachers have been noticing things too.”

Pete’s head whipped to look at the man next to him. “You’ve been talking to my  _ friends _ ?!”

Tony glanced over to the kid before focusing his eyes back on the road. “I’m concerned about you, I wanted to know i--”

“That’s none of your business! You may have forgotten about this while hacking the UN or whatever, but privacy is important! You can’t go poking around in my life.”

“I understand that, but--”

“No, you don’t!” Peter’s breathing quickened. “Don’t tell me you understand because I promise you don’t.”

Jesus, this had gone from zero to sixty real quick. “Then help me. Help me understand, tell me what’s going on,” Tony said softly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Peter’s fists clench. “Nothing’s going on. Everything’s fine, please believe me,” he was practically begging. 

He wanted to believe the kid, Jesus Christ he did. And for a brief second there, halfway between the compound and the Parker apartment, Tony let himself. He gave himself permission to live in his last data report, the one he’d dismissed as an outlier.

 

_ Data point 4 -- Skip _

 

It had been one of Peter’s no-show days; Happy had just texted to let them know the kid wasn’t coming. Tony put his phone down on the workbench and rubbed at the inside corners of his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

The man sighed and turned to his only official intern. “Hap made the drive for nothing. Again.”

Skip hummed. “More lab space for us I guess.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Is it weird that I miss having the squirt around?”

“Not at all. He has a good energy, it’s nice.”

The older man pulled his goggles over his eyes and returned to what he’d been tinkering with. “At least, he used to.”

“What do you mean?” Skip asked.

“You haven’t seen it? He’s been off lately, quiet and weird. He had a freak out the other day when I tried to smooth out his suit. I’m worried something’s going on at home.”

There was a beat of silence. “Really? Huh, I guess I didn’t notice it. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Even though the men weren’t looking at each other, Tony felt his eyebrows furrow. “You guys spend a lot of time down here together, he hasn’t been all squirrely around you?”

Skip seemed to think for a moment. “Maybe a little bit I suppose. I think it’s just teen angst though, you remember what it’s like to be sixteen.”

Tony felt a small flutter of hope in his chest before it died down. “I guess. It seems like more than that though, I’m trying to figure it all out.”

For a moment it looked like that would be the end of the conversation, but Skip eventually added one last thing. “I think everything’s fine, but I’ll have a conversation with him.”

  
  
  


Tony had discounted that data point almost immediately, and he hadn’t thought about it since. But now, driving Peter home after diner, he let himself consider it for a minute. Tony took some time to live in the fantasy of this all being girl troubles or anger at a teacher or hormones. But in the end, he was a good scientist to give undue weight to a theory just because he wanted to be true.

“I’m sorry kid, I wish I could believe you.”

The next sentence came out in a whisper. “So do. Mr. Stark, please, stop looking around and just trust me. I’m sorry I’ve been acting mopey, I swear I’ll cut it out.”

“It’s not- ugh, that’s not what I want. I want to know what’s going on with you so we can start to make it okay.” Tony steeled himself. He was terrible at expressing his feelings, but if any situation called for it this one did. “I care about you Underoos, and you’re scaring me.”

Although it was probably only a handful of seconds, it felt like an hour before Peter answered. “If you care about me, you’ll stop this. Let it drop and everything will be okay.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak and then realized he didn’t know what to say. Slowly, he let it close. He kept driving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took almost a month to post, there were a lot of different things I needed to work in. I swear the next part will come out faster. But in the meantime, what did you think?


	5. I Got Lost

Tony made a point not to slam his car door as he got in. He made sure to buckle his seatbelt with a normal amount of force, and no matter how badly he wanted to he didn’t sigh. Growing up he’d gotten in plenty of trouble, and he’d felt like shit when people started in on him without letting him explain himself first. He’d sworn he’d never let himself be like that, but as it turned out it was easier said than done.

“So. What happened,” he didn’t phrase it as a question; it was a demand for information.

“Were you not listening in there?”

“Yeah, I know what you did. I’m asking  _ why  _ you beat the shit out of a guy. You know how strong you are, you could’ve--” he stopped himself and took a breath. “Just explain to me why you did it.”

From his spot in the passenger’s seat, Peter pointedly turned away. “Y’know, I woke up this morning and decided it was a good day to get suspended.”

“I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, but I don’t like it.” As much as Tony wanted to be able to focus all of his attention on the conversation, he had somewhere to be. He shifted into drive and pulled out of the high school parking lot. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation. It’s none of your business”

The teen was really out to test Tony’s patience. “When I get a call from May saying I have to pick your ass up for pummeling a kid in a locker room, it becomes my business.”

“I’m not having this conversation. Just take me home.”

“I wish I could, but I have a meeting and I don’t have time to drop you off before going to the diner. I’m gonna have to put you in a nearby booth and take you back after.”

“This whole thing is bullshit,” Peter muttered.

Tony worked to hide his shock. “You got that right, bud. And here’s how this bullshit is gonna play out; you’re going to tell me what happened. It’ll either be here, in the middle of a restaurant during lunch rush, or in front of your aunt, and I promise you you don’t want to deal with the both of us at once. So what’ll it be?” Tony was expecting a fight, some bartering, maybe even screaming. So he was surprised when the response was almost immediate.

“He started it.”

“Okay, how?”

“He slapped me.”

Tony took a moment at the red light to turn and make eye contact. “If he slapped you first why isn't he suspended too?”

Peter shrugged.

“Kid…” he prompted. 

As the car started moving again, Peter closed his eyes. “After gym class I change in the corner, all close to the wall and stuff. So I didn't see him coming. He smacked my ass and I just, I guess I sorta just reacted. He's not in trouble because he was trying to be a good sportsman and I'm the one who decided to freak out.”

“Do you know why you freaked out?” Tony asked.

The teen opened his eyes again to look at the dead skin around his thumb he was picking at. “People can’t touch me like that. When he touched me I wasn’t in the locker room anymore, I was  _ there _ and I couldn’t-” he swallowed. “I didn’t want to be there.”

Tony felt his anger dissolve. Jesus Christ, was this why the kid has stopped patrolling? Were his crime fighting experiences this bad for him? Tony knew he’d been in some nasty fights, but he hadn’t realized it’d stuck with him this much. He exhaled. “I get that Pete, and I’m not mad. But if this happens again can you promise me you’ll try to snap out of it a little quicker? Broken noses aren’t exactly fun.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just needed him off me and I needed him to not do it again and I just got lost. I didn’t know he was trying to be nice, I swear. I. It was.” Peter stumbled. “I got lost.” If Tony didn’t know better, he’d swear a tear slid down the teen’s right cheek.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt him. I believe you.”

Tony wanted to ask about a thousand more questions, but he’d already pushed pretty hard today, and he wouldn’t know what to say anyway. After a tense moment of trying to think of a gentle way to change the subject, Peter’s phone went off. He gave a half-second glance at the screen before powering it off completely and shoving in his pocket.

“Your aunt’s really going off on you that bad?”

“Uh, something like that.”

Tony felt bad for the kid. “Hey now, don’t look so green around the gills. She loves you too much to kill you. I’ll talk to her for you if it’ll help.”

Peter’s adam’s apple bobbed. “Thanks Mr. Stark. Hopefully you won’t have to.”

The billionaire wished he could spend more time changing the subject and trying to cheer the spiderling up, but they’d arrived at the diner precisely nineteen seconds before his meeting was supposed to start. Once he got Pete situated in a booth and told the waitress that the bill was to go to him, Tony looked around. His informant was nowhere to be seen, meaning the guy was even later than Tony had been.

Tony took a seat at a table with a good view of where Peter was sitting and began checking his phone. The man he was supposed to be meeting was a thirty-some year old guy literally living in his mother’s basement. But he served as Tony’s connection to the mainstream world of young hackers, whose dealings were surprisingly useful to stay up to date on. The last few meetings had been more than general updates though. The prank break-ins to Friday’s mainframe were getting obnoxious. The only thing that was ever done was scrambling the compound’s internal security footage and rewiring commands. The first few times Tony’d responded by fixing the bug and increasing security in case of a break-in attempt, but such an attack never came. In all honesty, the part that worried the engineer the most was that the hackers were leaving absolutely no trace at all. Looking at the system, you’d think that Tony himself was making the changes. He’d been planning on discussing all of that with his connection, but the man’s absence continued without so much as a text. Ten, twenty, and then thirty minutes passed with Tony sitting alone at the table. But once he’d stopped sending emails and messing around with his phone, it actually became enjoyable. He got to pass the time watching Peter.

From where Tony was sitting, it looked like Peter had ordered some sort of hashbrown and french toast stick platter. He watched as Pete picked at the food, pushed it around, and eventually began building with it. Tony couldn’t help but smile as the kid tried and failed several times to stand the french toast sticks up to create pillars. Eventually Peter carefully arranged dabs of potato around the bases to prevent the sticks from sliding, and did a fist pump when they didn’t fall over. Tony chuckled, and when he realized his informant was forty-three minutes late, he stood up and walked over to Peter’s booth.

“So what’s the goal from here?” he asked, sliding in across from the teen.

Peter nodded in greeting. “I wanted to make a flat square of hashbrown to like, put on top as a ceiling. But it’s too thin, I don’t think it’ll stay together.”

“You could use a pancake instead?” he suggested.

“Nah, it has to be the hashbrowns.”

Tony smiled. “Why?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Because those are the rules. Duh.”

“Oh, my mistake.” The man thought for a second. “The oatmeal here is really thick. Are we allowed to order some and mix it with the hashbrowns, or is that against the rules too?”

The teen chewed on his lip. “No, I think that works.”

“Excellent.”

Tony flagged down the waitress to order the oatmeal, and by the time she delivered it the boys had an entire brunch platter of requests to further their building designs. The pair spent over an hour constructing their village, complete with powdered sugar snowfall and a blue powerade river lined with cane sugar rock beds. Tony didn’t even mind when Peter knocked over the syrup and drenched his suit jacket. When the kid snorted from laughing, Tony realized with a pang that he hadn’t heard that sound in months. The more they sat playing with their food, the more light returned to Peter’s eyes. By the end of it, he’d even rebooted his cell to take a picture of their creation. Tony pretended not to notice the boy’s flinch when he dismissed his phone notifications. 

He made a note to himself to talk May down from her anger. And, most importantly, to joke around with Peter more often. It was getting clearer and clearer that the kid needed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for fluff, I delivered fluff. Strap in though, y'all know the + 1 is next.


	6. Like Everything's Okay

The day everything fell apart started out like any other day. Well, looking back on things the world had fallen apart for Peter months prior, and everyone else had suspected that something was off for a while. But no one had known. No one had had any idea, and that’s what would keep Tony up for countless nights after the fact. Because they should have seen it,  _ he  _ should have seen it. He should have pushed harder or looked closer or just fucking listened to the kid before it was too late. There were almost a half dozen glaring incidents Tony could think of when things could’ve stopped if he’d asked the right questions or not been a pompous idiot, but he hadn’t. 

But of course none of that was on the man’s mind when he woke up that fateful morning. He rolled out of bed, got a shower, and started his day like his perspective on the world wasn’t about to change forever. He tied his tie, immediately got it fixed by Pepper, video called with Nick Fury, confirmed a wire transfer to Doctors Without Borders, and drove to Midtown High like it was any other Wednesday. In fact, when he rolled up and saw Peter already outside and waiting for him, he thought to himself that it was going to be a good day.

They spent the car ride to the lab chatting softly about anything and everything, and by the end of it Tony had gotten the kid to be almost-excited about some school trip to Europe coming up that summer. In fact, Peter's mood seemed pretty neutral, which was a blessing as of late. Tony was weighing if he should use the moment to ask how Pete was doing or to keep things light and distracted. As it turned out, that question would answer itself in the end. 

“I forgot what snack you wanted, so I grabbed four from the pantry,” Tony called out as he thumped down the stairs into the lab.

“Ooh, like what?”

“Cheetos, graham crackers, donut holes, and carrots.”

Peter smiled slightly. “Why even bring the carrots?”

Tony couldn't help but chuckle. “Wishful thinking I suppose. That and Pepper was watching me and I like to pretend I'm not a terrible influence on you.”

“Miss Potts isn’t dumb though.”

The inventor tossed the food on the nearest countertop and made his way to his desk. “Right you are kiddo, right you are. But she likes to think the best of me. And when I can’t fulfill those expectations, I can at least fake it. Now do me a favor and act like you’re at least considering the vegetables before we both ignore them.”

“Whatever you say Mr. Stark,” he mumbled.

If Tony had known what was about to happen, he would have stopped what he was doing to focus on that last moment of casual banter. He would’ve stood there and stared at Peter one last time while the kid would still willingly give a half-second of eye contact now and again. Tony would have enjoyed it. But of course he didn’t know, so he went on with his plans and started digging around in his desk drawers.

“Have you seen the blueprints we drew up last time?” he asked after his second search. Tony waited for a reply but none came. “Pete?” he called. When the silence continued Tony sighed. The boy knew he was in a hurry -- he needed to duck out to talk with Happy about the hackers.

He turned around planning to take the earbuds off of his assistant or snap him out of his texting or something. But laying eyes on the kid knocked all exasperation out of him. Peter was frozen where he stood, all color drained from his skin. The screen of his phone was lit up and pointed in the direction of his face, but his eyes were blank and unfocused. Tony instantly felt unnerved; this wasn’t something he’d ever seen from him before.

“Woah, you okay?” he asked, making sure to keep his voice soft.

There was no indication Peter had processed the words. He was rooted to the spot and he was beginning to look almost green.

Tony felt his anxiety and anticipation spike. Forty-five seconds ago the boy was laughing about snacks and now it looked like he had seen a ghost. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Peter's words were so soft, Tony wasn't sure they were meant to be a reply. “No. I can't.”

The man took a slow step towards Peter, any hint of thought about blueprints and meetings gone. “What can't you do?”

“I can’t do this,” he started shaking his head back and forth. “This can’t happen.”

“Okay, that’s okay. Nothing's gonna happen. I just need you to talk to me.”

“I can’t do this,” he repeated.

By this point Tony was a few feet from where Peter was standing, and he was almost tempted to wave a hand in front of the kid’s face. He wanted the teen to snap out of it like it was all just a trick of the light, but a pit in his stomach told Tony that this was all too real. “Do what, Pete? What can’t you do?”

His response was gibberish. The parts that were understandable were repeating and running together in a jumble, “ _ No-no-no-no-no...not-like-this-no...I-can’t-I-can’t-no-I-can’t.” _

Tony didn’t know how long he would’ve let Peter go on like that if it weren’t for the fact that the kid started swaying without trying to steady himself. Tony didn’t know how to fix the situation, but he was sure collapsing would only make it worse. He reached out to rest a firm hand on the boy’s quivering shoulder, but the instant his palm made contact Peter stumbled several feet back.

“ _ No _ ,” he panted.

Tony put his hands up. “I’m sorry.”

Even though he was facing Tony instead of the phone that was now held at his side, Peter’s gaze seemed to go right through his mentor instead of landing on him. “I can’t,” he said again.

“What can’t you do?” Peter took another step back and Tony took a slow, measured step forward to match him.

“Don’t make me,”

Another step back for Peter and forward for Tony. He had seen his assistant succumb to panic before and was trying to remind himself that they’d always made it to the other side. But it had never been like this before, and that scared the shit out of Tony. “Pete, it’s okay. Just talk to me. What don’t you want to do?”

“Don’t make me say it.” Another step. Then two more.

“I’m gonna be straight with you here, you’re really worrying me. Can we take a minute to calm down and think?”

Peter tried to take another step, but his foot ran into one of the support pillars scattered around the room. Tony was afraid this would make the kid turn and run, but instead he let his momentum continue as his back slid him against the tile and down into a sitting position on the ground. “No.”

Tony slowly squatted down and shifted himself to sitting as well. “Okay, I guess I appreciate the honesty.”

“I can’t keep lying,” he mumbled.

“No one’s asking you to.”

Peter started shaking his head back and forth compulsively again, his eyes still unfocused.

Tony backpedaled. “Well I’m not asking you to at least.”

“I can’t.”

“You keep saying that. What is it you can’t do?”

“I can’t lie, but I can’t tell the truth. And I can’t keep going like this,” the teen breathed.

The more he resisted opening up, the more it dawned on Tony just how serious this was. He racked his brain for every last bit of tact and gentleness he possessed. “What does ‘going like this mean?”

“Pretending everything’s okay.”

“Then don’t. Acting like things are fine landed us here, so cutting out this act might be a good idea all around, yeah?”

“It’s not that easy,” Peter said.

“How’s that?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Tony shifted, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m scared of telling the truth and I’m scared of people finding out and I’m scared of what he’ll do and I’m scared you’ll hate me.”

The man felt his eyebrows shoot up. The idea that he might be contributing to whatever was wrong almost knocked the wind out of him. “Woah there, slow down. I swear no matter what this is, I’m not gonna hate you for it.”

Peter balled up his fists until his knuckles went white. “You can’t say that. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then help me understand,” Tony begged, even though he was terrified of the answer. “Please kid, you’ve been acting weird for so long. Whatever this is, you’ve been holding on to it for too long already.”

The boy folded his legs in front of him so his feet were flat on the ground and his knees were bent up at chest height. He rested his elbows on his knees and clenched his fingers in his hair. Tony could almost see the different sides of Peter in the knock-down-drag-out fight on whether or not to talk “It wasn’t supposed to get this bad, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tony lied. He had never known anything less in his life.

“And then it sorta became too late. Like, if I was gonna speak out about it I should’ve done it before. That ship had already sailed,” Peter whispered.

Tony wished he could crawl inside Peter’s head and see what he was thinking. He had no idea what they were talking about, so he was unsure how to navigate the conversation. But damn it if he wasn’t going to try. “It’s never too late to tell me. You don’t know what to do -- that’s fine. Let me help you figure it out. Two geniuses are better than one.”

“That’s the thing, you’re gonna think I’m so stupid.”

“I won’t. You’re such a smart kid, whatever you’re about to tell me won’t change that. Please just trust me,” Tony surprised himself by getting choked up at the end. Jesus, when had he started caring about the spiderling this much?”

“I…” Peter swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes and Tony wished he could sweep the boy into a hug. “I don’t know how to say it. I don’t know where to start.”

“Just try your best, okay?”

The trembling Tony hadn’t realized subsided started up again. Peter brought his hands together and began picking at the skin around his thumbs. “P-pictures. He shows me pictures.”

“Of what?”

The teen continued on like he hadn’t heard anything. “And videos. And sometimes GIFs. It made me super uncomfortable, even that very first time. Before he made me reenact it with him. You gotta believe me that I didn't want it," he pleaded.

Tony was trying to process what the kid was saying, but his thoughts were moving through molasses. He was used to making connections quickly and easily, but it wasn’t happening. Peter kept talking. “And there was stuff before the pictures, too. Things he’d say and do that felt weird. But I thought I was taking it the wrong way or whatever. That that was just the way the adults talk to each other, friends joking around. But I get it now, he was never my friend.”

“Pete, I’m trying to understand here, but I don’t think I quite know what you’re talking about,” Tony said.

“Please Mr. Stark, don’t make me say it. I can’t say it.”

“Uh, okay.” He racked his brain. “Do you think you can text it to me?”

“No, that’s even worse. I can’t do this. Fuck, I need this to be over with. Over with,” Peter rambled as he buried his face in his hands. “Can’t say it, can’t type it, can’t … jesus. Can I just show you?”

Tony was eager to latch on to whatever the teen could give him. “Yeah, absolutely. Show me what’s up.”

With hands shaking so violently Tony was worried he’d drop it, Peter pulled the phone from out of his pocket. He winced as he tapped and swiped a few times, and grew pale as he settled on one screen.

“Promise you won’t hate me.”

“I could never.”

“And please don’t be mad,” Peter whispered.

“I promise.”

The kid, who had truly never looked more like a child, closed his eyes and slid his phone face-down across the floor. Tony wasn’t sure what to expect, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he flipped the cell over. What the top banner of the screen labeled  _ message.attachment0_2154C  _ was a landscape-oriented photograph taken with professional lighting and clarity. On a nondescript bed in front of a neutral background were two fully nude men on top of one and other. It wasn’t precisely visible what was happening, but it was clear from the orientation of their bodies that one was penetrating the other, a clump of hair wrenched tight in the larger man’s hand. Even though the crude URL displayed across the lower third of the screen had several attention-grabbing words in it, the aspect of it all that would be burnt into Tony’s memory forever was the expression on the smaller man’s face. He had clear tear tracks across both cheeks, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. It was all too obvious that the man, or at least the character he was playing, was not a willing participant in what was happening. 

_ “He shows me pictures and videos and sometimes GIFs. It made me super uncomfortable, even that very first time. Before he made me reenact it with him.” _

The new context to the conversation slammed Tony with a wave of nausea. Oh god. The thought of someone being that depraved brought the sting of bile to his throat. He had seen torture and death and cruelty more times than he could count, but nothing had ever hit him like this. He could feel as his stomach curdled in disgust.

"Peter," he worked to keep his voice as even as possible. "who sent this to you?"

Peter opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He hovered for a moment in time in that choked silence before the dam broke. Tears started falling rapidly down the boy's face as he hugged his knees closer into his body. His chest was collapsed forward as if bracing for impact.

Tony tried to look for who sent the message attachment, but the phone had already gone dark and then back to the password protected lock screen. "Please. You've come this far, you've done the hard part. All I need is a name. Who's doing this to you?"

Peter's mouth trembled, and it almost looked like the words were being physically pulled from his lips. "Skip," he croaked. "It's Skip."

Tony had always thought that 'seeing red' was just an expression, but the edges of his vision washed over with crimson. The man who he'd trusted in his home, even called family. Tony had been betrayed before but nothing like this. This was vile -- evil incarnate. His mind was flooded with the thousand ways he would make that vermin suffer and before he knew what he was doing, Tony was standing. 

"Friday, load the current location of Steven Westcott and send a suit to the front door. Disable fight notifications to the rest of the team."

Bend him, break him, make him bleed. Make him hurt for what he’s done. Rip him limb from limb until he’s just a stringy pulp. With the violence raging in his head and the blood pounding at his ears, it was a miracle that he heard what the boy whispered.

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad.”

Tony froze midway to the lab’s door. He turned and looked at the huddled shaking mass of child that was Peter Parker. It wasn’t that Tony wanted to punish Skip -- he  _ needed  _ to. But Peter had just done something no one should ever have to do, and the kid didn’t need revenge or justice or defending. He needed someone to be there for him.

As he wrestled to compartmentalize his rage, Tony was hit again with the news. His heart hadn’t felt this tight since Afghanistan. The thought of the months of horror Peter had undergone made Tony’s entire body ache with grief. No one in the world deserved what had happened, but why did it have to be Peter? The boy who did everything he could and more to make sure the people around him were as safe and happy as possible, the boy who risked it all again and again for the sake of what was right, the boy who made towers with his french toast and hashbrowns. Tony had never been a crier but the whole thing made him want to wail and sob and scream. But just like Peter didn’t need Tony’s anger, he didn’t need Tony’s heartbreak either. The first reaction a kid receives to sharing something like this could have such a lasting effect, Tony couldn’t screw it up. He needed to be calm and gentle and reasonable and all the other things Stark men were not known for. But the time to pull it together had come.

Once Tony was absolutely sure he had his own emotions in check, he slowly sunk back down in his spot. “I’m not mad at you. I'm mad at  _ him,"  _ he said. "You understand that Skip doing what he did, that was wrong on his end, not yours -- right?

Peter wiped at his cheeks. "I guess. But like, I'm Spiderman, I could've crushed him if I'd wanted to. At the beginning, if I had shoved him, broken his arm or something, none of this would've happened," he said all of this to himself, his head angled down into his knees.

"Hey, no. You can't do that to yourself. There isn't a single part of this that falls on you. The only one that did anything wrong was that rat bastard."

Peter shrugged. "At first I could've stopped it. Before he had insurance."

Tony didn't think he could've been thrown through any more of a loop than he already had. He braced himself mentally, whatever this was going to be wasn't going to be good. "What do you mean, 'insurance?'" 

The kid was quiet.

"Talk to me. Nothing you can say is gonna make me think any less of you."

"I. He," Peter ran a hand through his hair. "At first I didn't tell anyone because I was freaked out and confused, because like, what was even happening you know? But then when things got bad," he swallowed, "he made sure I couldn't tell anyone."

"How?" Tony whispered.

"He got into, he took, he, I, jesus fuck. I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered. "He hacked Friday's security footage, erased what happened from what everyone else can see, and kept copies for himself. He has tapes of us, every single time. He told me if I ever said anything he'd make them go public."

Tony's jaw dropped. How hadn't he seen it? He'd been so dumb for so long and Peter had paid the price. All indications pointed to SI personnel changing the code and Tony had ignored it. 

Meanwhile, Peter was still babbling to himself. "I was too far in, you know? By the time I stopped being so fucking naive he had so much on me, and I couldn't do that to May. She's been through enough and already worries about me patrolling and I couldn't let her see me like that. I couldn't get out, I can't, oh god. Fuck, what have I done. I've ruined it she's gonna see, everyone's gonna see and my life is over. I can never take this back, I should've just stayed with the plan and stuck it out, I can't--"

“Hey, stop that. Breathe with me.”

The boy took a shuddering breath. “I messed everything up.”

Tony wished there was a way he could pull Peter’s eyes out of his head so he could see the world from an outside view for just one second. The inventor knew from experience how difficult it is to see the way out of the shitstorm when you’re standing in the middle of it, and it made him physically ill to think about the memories and stress that surrounded his kid. “You’re not the one who messed anything up. Skip put you in an impossible situation and did his best to make sure there was nothing you could do about it. But do you wanna hear my idea?”

Peter shrugged but looked up.

“I’m gonna help you figure out how to tell the police--”

The boy winced and opened his mouth, but Tony held a hand up.

“No, hear me out. We talk to the police and May, and if you want me to stay in there with you I will. I’ll even be the one to say the actual words if that makes things easier for you. And I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard as shit. But your aunt loves you too much to do anything but support you, and if any of the officers so much as sneeze in a way that makes you uncomfortable I’ll deck them. Skip will rot in a jail cell and we’ll find you someone to process all this with, a professional that knows what they’re doing. I’ll be right there when you need me and gone when you need space -- we’re gonna do this your way, but we can’t just let it drop.”

Peter hit the ground with his fist. “The videos though. I can’t, if anyone sees them, I can’t, fuck. I can’t.”

Tony gritted his jaw in an attempt to stamp down the fresh wave of rage that hit him. “Publishing that is a crime, if he showed anyone he’d be in even more hell than he’s already gonna be. The only people that’ll see them are the police. I promise.”

“I hate all of this.”

“I know, I do too.”

“Mr. Stark?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“Are you really not upset with me? Even a little?”

Tony had thought his heart couldn't shatter any more than it already had, but he was wrong. "You did absolutely nothing for me to be upset about."

Peter hugged his arms around his stomach. "It took me this long to say something."

"But you said something. You just did something braver than anything I've ever accomplished and I'm nothing but proud of you for that kiddo."

"I just," he bit his lip, "I don't know what it was. He sent that picture today and I couldn't do it anymore, you know? I can't pretend to be okay. I'm too tired."

"You don't have to pretend. I never want you to act like you're fine when you're not."

To Tony's surprise, Peter collapsed forward into his arms. The man hesitated before slowly and gently wrapping his arms around him. He tried to imitate everything Pepper did when he was in a panic attack; shushing, repetitive comfort motions, soft reassurances. Peter alternated between bouts of shaking, sobbing, and total stillness, and Tony wasn't sure which scared him the most. More than anything he wished he could suck the pain out of the kid like venom from a bite -- he would take on the burden in an instant if he could. But since he couldn't, he had to settle for being there with Peter in his pain. The boy had been all alone in it for too long.

After sobs have way to dry heaves which gave way to hiccups, Peter shook himself, took a deep breath, and sat up. "I know th-this isn't over, but can we pretend like this never happened for like, an hour? Just build stuff and act like everything is normal before my life explodes?"

"Kid…"

"Please?" he pleaded as we wiped his eyes. "I'll talk to cops and May and whatever you want, but I just need a break. I can't do this again right away."

Tony thought before sighing. If it were him, he wouldn't have the energy to so much as move. "Yeah, that seems fair."

"And Mr. Stark?"

"Mmm?"

Peter pushed himself to standing and forced a shaky smile. "If you treat me like I'm m-made of glass, I'll break your door again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry it took so long. At one point I deleted about 2000 words because it wasn't moving in an authentic way. Your comments really helped keep me going, so thank you.
> 
> What did you think? Also, what other type of fics would you like to see in my writing style?


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